Sad Eyes
by Phoenix Rising
Summary: Quistis angst, dealing with depression and suicide.


Sad Eyes  
  
Author's Note: This fic deals with depression and all the details surrounding it very briefly. This fic is based on some of my own feelings/ experiences and is quite angsty. This fic also deals with suicide, so if you are squeamish or God-fearing, STAY AWAY! Or read, but don't flame. As ever, constructive criticism is welcome (just ask Dark Angels) but flames will be sent back with a curse attached.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own, will never own, and do not profess to own any character mentioned here; they all belong to SquareSoft Inc(. The feelings are my own (and many other peoples' I guess) and do not represent the feelings of the owners and shareholders of Square. Short snippet of lyric is from 'In The End' by Linkin Park. I also do not own Linkin Park, but I wouldn't say no to owning Mike Shinoda!  
  
Allergy Warning: This fic may contain traces of nuts.  
  
Quistis Trepe, Garden's most promising young instructor slammed the phone down and dropped it back onto the desk. Her eyes filled with tears and she willed herself not to let them spill down her soft cheeks. She reached for the tissue box, meticulously, almost compulsively, placed along the edge of the desk. Grabbing a wad of tissue, she mopped the telltale grey mascara tracks away and sniffled miserably. She was angry, with the guy who she had had to call, and most of all she was angry with herself for crying over a worthless man. She was always the one who had to instigate a relationship, the organised one who wanted to plan ahead and make dates, and always the one who cried herself to sleep at night. She lay back on the bed in the foetal position, trying to make herself as small as possible, so she might just fade away down the crack between the bed and the wall. Brushing her fine gold hair back from her face, she burrowed her hand under the pillow and settled her head into the crisp white pillowcase.  
She lay still for some time, trying not to think about her phone-call and succeeding just for a while. Then, her lust for love intruded again and her mind clicked back to the man she thought was starting to love her. She had met him six months ago in a seedy Balamb bar, and they had hit it off straight away. They had liked the same music, their interests were much the same, they read the same books and they were the same way politically inclined. It seemed perfect, who could tell yet if it wasn't? She had turned him down twice, and she had regretted it. Now they were 'seeing' eachother, and most of the time Quistis was happier than she had ever been. But just sometimes, like now, Quistis felt worthless, and an ever-growing part of Quistis knew she was.  
Doctor Kadowaki had spoken to Quistis many times before about her 'problems' with striving too hard to achieve, and feeling isolated and alone. The doctor had offered Quistis drugs to make her feel better, but the young instructor had declined. Quistis didn't need foreign material inside her body; she was healthy as she could have been. At least physically, she was fine. It was her head that she worried about long into the night, and also the bags under her eyes that were caused by late-night worry. With a sigh, she turned her head to the wall and closed her eyes. Fathers' day was coming up, not that it was a big deal really, just another occasion to make money for the greetings card firms. There was a little part of Quistis that wanted to waste her instructor's salary on an unfunny card and a tacky gift. If only she knew her dad; if only there was someone in his place.  
The next morning, the rest of the gang was seated around their usual table in the cafeteria, some looking a little worse for wear. Irvine looked like he'd had to be forcibly dragged out of bed, probably by his unruly auburn hair. "Did anyone see Quistis this morning?", Selphie asked, the morning not dampening her quirkiness as he reached for a piece of fruit from a bowl on the table. The rest of their little group shook their heads, but unusually enough, Squall spoke up.  
  
"She's been having problems sleeping, Doctor K told me. She tried to give her pills to make her sleep better, but you know Quistis. Stubborn as a mule", he added. "Isn't that against the patient-doctor confidence thing? Ya know, the hippo... oath. Thing", Zell asked, his mouth full of muffin. Squall shrugged.  
  
"I am in charge here", he told them, as if they disbelieved him. "And she's my friend", he added.  
Back in her room, Quistis had not moved from her bed. She felt like she hadn't slept, but the shadows on the wall had changed without her knowing, so she must have been. She got slowly to her feet, the world spinning slightly as she crossed the small space to the desk. She sat down in the squeaky office-chair and pulled some papers toward her. Taking out the fountain pen that Headmaster Cid had bought her upon her promotion to Instructor, she began to mark term papers. After marking three, she was bored; she loved being an instructor, even down to the boring things, such as grading papers. It now seemed to her, that she, Quistis Trepe; Grade One Instructor, had lost interest in the only thing she had ever really loved and been able to hold on to. She tidied the papers all together and stood up to place them in the in-tray. As she moved to drop them in, something inside her snapped. With a hoarse cry she threw the papers into the bin, not caring if they fell all over the floor, which they did. The Quistis of old would have hurried onto her knees to tidy the mess, but instead she threw herself to the floor and scrunched herself into a ball. Her hands gripped her head, which felt like it would explode unless she held on to it, and she wept salty tears down her cheeks, not bothering to brush them away.  
Quistis had had enough of Instructing. She was sick of the responsibility she had, and the pressure Squall placed on her to train top grade SeeDs, like they had been. It felt to Quistis that she had been dunked into a pool and she couldn't fight the current that pulled her down any longer. She went limp and lay on the floor, staring at nothing, but with her eyes fixed on the fountain pen that rested half off the desk. The nib dripped red ink where it had been hastily pitched to the desk as she grabbed the papers. The cream carpet absorbed the miniature stain that grew like a blush, and Quistis smiled suddenly. A knock at her door made her look up, and her smile vanish.  
  
"Quistis, it's me, Selphie. Are you coming down for breakfast?", the voice of the Trabian girl drifted through the door.  
  
"No, I'm sick", Quistis said softly, laughing to herself.  
  
"It'll do you good to eat something then", Selphie replied.  
  
"No, I'm fine. I don't want food", she raised her voice slightly, irritated that she was no longer left at peace.  
  
"I think it'll do you good Quisty", Selphie said uncertainly.  
  
"I think it'd do me far more good if you went back down there and left me the hell alone!", Quistis roared, making herself and the other girl jumped. Swiftly retreating footsteps let her know she had achieved her solitude.  
Selphie reached the canteen red-faced, and with two tears hanging off her cheeks. The others looked up in alarm and Selphie threw herself down next to Rinoa.  
  
"What's up Selphie?", Zell asked her, as Rinoa passed the slight brunette a tissue from her purse.  
  
"Quistis... she shouted at me! She never shouts at me", Selphie's face wrinkled up slightly and the others looked at eachother.  
  
"Maybe you woke her up and she was just grouchy?", Irvine suggested.  
  
"This wasn't grouchy Quistis, this was another emotion. I think she was actually really angry...", Selphie trailed off. "Maybe not at you, maybe she was in the middle of something that had riled her?", Squall put in.  
  
"She said she was sick", Selphie said softly.  
  
While her friends downstairs debated Quistis' mood swings, she sat alone in front of the computer in the small office that adjoined her classroom. She had thought it'd be funny for her friends to come across her here. Not that she'd know anything about it. The keyboard was stained with deep crimson blood from twin gashes on Quistis' pale wrists. The offending weapon; her letter opener, lay on her lap, crimson staining the blade and her russet skirt. Her cold blue eyes stared straight ahead, and her mouth was curved up slightly, in a half smile, as if there was a joke that she had just got, and only she knew about it. On the screen in a word processor window was a short note. She had sent it by email to Squall, and a copy lay in the printer tray just for safety, but the blue glare from the screen continued to light Quistis' face and give her more of a deathly glow that she would ever have expected. The humming computer portrayed the legend:  
  
"I am Quistis Trepe, and I am afraid that I can't live like this anymore. I'm sorry to leave you all, and I'm sorry for shouting at Selphie earlier today. Please don't cry. I hope you can all forgive me. Especially you, Squall.  
  
'I had to fall, to lose it all, but in the end; it doesn't even matter'  
  
I'm sorry.  
  
Quistis" 


End file.
